Alma Step-Mater and Pater


Sorry about the confusing title to this blog. Read on and all if not all then something will be revealed.

‘Twas a strange day with things attached to a certain significance that only could be.

I saw the member of the upper-class before I got home. He was carrying an umbrella and swaggering it like he owned the goddamn road, let alone one of the large houses on it.

I felt his eyes on me, like a fly eyeing up supper and felt so dirty so I straightened myself and walked onwards towards him.

He fingered the area beneath his left eye as we crossed paths and I half imagined him to pull off a monocle I hadn’t seen and shout something at me.

As I got closer to home I reminisced about the past and friendlier times. College days. Warm summers and clean ironed clothes.

When I lost hope in the future I would sometimes go around and visit my Dad and Step-Mother who would spoil me for a couple of hours bringing me tea and even a piece of cake if I was lucky. Anyway one Christmas they brought out a little wooden statue of a guardsman who looked a bit like a Regimental Mascot or Father Christmas. Today I looked out of the window and saw this very same figure on the wall between the house where I live and next door. What was it doing there? I had arranged to see my Dad a few days ago but if he had put it there what on earth did it mean? That I was now under his protection? I went outside with my camera phone and took a picture and then emailed my Dad asking for an explanation if indeed there was one.

Later that day and there was activity outside and I went to my window and saw a lady whom I hadn’t seen beforehand the figure to someone she seemed to be friends with.

No Dad in the protection business after all.

And Do I really need protection? I get nervous sometimes and I do live in a rough neighbourhood but the thought of my dad who is nearly 70 coming to rescue me a 42-year-old male overweight and bearded from 20 something scallies is nonetheless funny, scary and reassuring at the same time.

The following two paragraphs confuse me so you might want to skip them and just read past.

Now I know I said that this day was about a certain significance so let me say this. It (significance) faded like so many other days significant or not slowly like a grease stain, over time.Things used to be significant and magnificent at least in my mind When did this change occur? After the bankruptcy and mental breakdown probably. Just so you know it was a long time ago but some scars take longer to heal. They must or I’d be labrador happy with all the attention I receive.

And just so you know. I prefer cats to labradors as they do not require walking three times a day! Otherwise, dogs are great. I like to end on a cheery note but it feels like someone has removed all the notes above C from my internal infernal keyboard. So here goes. AAA-BBB-CCC-SILENCE-CCC-BBB-AAA-SILENCE-ABC-ABC-ABC-SILENCE-BBB-BAC-BAC-CAB-CCC. I called it infernally because I still don’t have mastery of it or anyone to play to. This is sounding increasingly real and desperate/normal.

Well, thank you for reading and I just thought of an ending.

The significance of something is not always magnificent when you feel it and magnificence of something is not always significant when you feel it.:)

Take care



Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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